


A Late Night in Begnion

by CherryMilkshake



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Late Night Conversations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11271522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMilkshake/pseuds/CherryMilkshake
Summary: Ike doesn't like Begnion. He doesn't like the buildings, he doesn't like the atmosphere, and he doesn't like being given the run-around by a little girl. So, of course, his strategist is being distracted and unfocused! Ike tries to figure out why.





	A Late Night in Begnion

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published July 17, 2012
> 
> Copied from FF.net for archiving purposes and because AO3 needs more FE9 fic.
> 
> Written as a sort of preamble to their B support.

Begnion had not been good for Ike’s nerves. Between being jerked around by the apostle and learning more about beorc nobility and laguz slavery than he’d ever cared to, he was exhausted. The gaudy guestrooms he and the Mercenaries were housed in didn’t help. They didn’t feel like anyone could live in them—spotlessly clean, impeccably decorated; Ike didn’t even want to touch anything for fear he’d mar it.

To make things worse, it wasn’t just Ike. Soren, too, had been acting strangely during their stay. His normally sharp eyes would glass over during conversation, only snapping back when Ike called his name. But no matter how much Ike asked what was bothering him, the answer was always the same: “Nothing. I’m fine.” Ike grew to resent those words, because he felt like Soren was shutting him out.

So, on top of the general discomfort of being in the opulent Mainal Cathedral, being run around by the apostle for no clear reasons, and learning uncomfortable truths about the beorc, Ike also had to worry about his tactician. It was no wonder he was having trouble sleeping.

 

The night after delivering Tormod to Apostle Sanaki, Ike wandered out onto a terrace near his room, throwing his head back and staring at the night sky. Silhouetted clouds drifted across the moon, but he didn’t mind. With a sigh, he lay down on the stone, wrapping himself in his cape to keep from catching a chill.

After a few moments of peace, he heard soft footsteps coming from the inside hall. Ike half sat up, afraid it was some servant come to tell him to leave, but it was only Soren. He looked surprised to see Ike there.

“Hey, Soren,” Ike said, lying back down.

“Hello, Ike… I didn’t know you came here in the evenings as well.”

“Oh, is this where you’ve been? I was wondering. I thought maybe you were in the library or something.”

“At night? Hardly. It’s hard to read by candlelight, and besides, it’s dangerous to have flames near books.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

Silence stretched between them as Soren stood in the doorway, his face shadowed by the light behind him.

Ike rolled out his cape. “Want to sit awhile?”

Soren nodded and lay down beside Ike. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, his robes straining on every inhale.

“Are you really okay, Soren?” Ike didn’t turn over to look at him, because he knew that would pull the cape out from under him. “You’ve seemed distracted lately.”

“It’s nothing. I’m f—”

“If you say ‘fine’, I’m going to punch you. Tell me the truth, Soren. I know you better than that.”

Soren groaned and crossed his arms. “This place has… made me realize some unpleasant things about myself. And that strange swordsman we found in the desert… I don’t like him.”

Ike smirked. “Soren not liking someone? How strange!”

But Soren didn’t laugh. “He keeps staring at me, as if he knows something I don’t. It’s… disconcerting.”

“Do you want me to say anything to him?”

“No… I can handle it.” He hesitated a moment. “What about you, Ike? Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s clear you don’t care for Begnion…”

“True enough. But at least the apostle is keeping us busy for now, even if I don’t understand what she’s playing at.”

Soren fidgeted with his belt, sliding his thumb between it and his waist. “What about your father? I know it’s been some months, but…”

The subject of his father brought a wrinkle between Ike’s eyebrows. He didn’t know how to answer. “I… I will avenge his death. I will kill that knight.”

“But what then?”

“I guess… I’ll just keep running the company. What else would I do?”

Soren rolled onto his side, propping his head up to look at Ike more closely. “Well, I’m sure Princess Elincia is going to want to keep you for herself.”

“How do you mean?”

“Surely you’ve noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

Soren chuckled and shook his head. “Dense as always. Well, suffice it to say, the princess will likely aim to keep you in the palace with her, perhaps as a knight or advisor. If she offered, would you accept?”

Ike mulled it over, looking up at the twinkling stars. “Probably not,” he said at length.

“Why?”

“My father devoted his life to the Greil Mercenaries, and he entrusted me with the company when he died. I can’t just abandon it to spend the rest of my life in a pretty palace. I hate beorc nobles anyway. I couldn’t stand living with them for the rest of my life.”

“So you prefer sub-hu—laguz ones?”

“I guess. King Caineghis seemed like good company, and that dragon prince we met at sea wasn’t bad either.”

“The king said you were born in Gallia. Would you return there?”

“Hm, maybe, but only if the Mercenaries would be comfortable with that. I mean, some people would be unhappy there.”

Soren returned to his back and looked up. “By ‘some people’, of course, you mean me,” he said bitterly.

“I don’t judge you for disliking them, Soren.”

Those words sparked something in Soren’s eyes and he sat up, looking down at Ike. “You don’t? Why?”

“Well, I mean, you’re getting better, and I always assumed you had some bad experience with them at one point or another…” Soren’s face relaxed back into his usual grimness, and he lay back down. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, nothing at all. Nothing at all…”

The silence was heavy now, laced with confusion and some sort of unmet expectation.

“It’s getting late,” Ike said at last. “We should return to our room and try to get some sleep. We’re investigating that duke tomorrow. Duke… Tans?”

“Tanas,” Soren corrected. “And yes, you’re right.” He got off of Ike’s cape and to his feet. His eyes were somewhere far away, seeing something other than the dark stone beneath them. His sandaled feet whispered down the hallway, leaving Ike alone in the chill night air, wondering what he’d said.

“Blast,” he muttered after a moment. “He never did actually tell me what was bothering him. Oh well, I’ll get it from him soon enough…” And with a jaw-popping yawn, Ike tramped back to the room he and Soren shared to sleep and dream of the morrow.


End file.
